Some Scars Are Too Deep
by AlchemicAngel19
Summary: Post-manga/Brotherhood. AU. Broken by the deaths of his wife and unborn son, Kimblee has shut the entire world out, including his daughter Deylia. Twelve years after the fact, she is still fighting to bring him back to reality, and to find her way in the world, when a misunderstanding causes her to run away, right into danger. Full summary on profile, stupid character limit.
1. Prologue

_**(Note: Since I couldn't fit everything in** **with the limited summary space, I'll state it here- there is not only mentions of OCxCC here, Kimblee is going to be pretty OOC from his main counterpart. So if you don't like things like this, stop reading and turn away now. You've been warned.)**_

_The only thing worse then death is to avert your eyes from it._

How he wished he had though...for once in his life, there was no joy in watching another human being die. Not when the person in question was his wife...and his unborn son...

There was no pleasure, no happiness in watching her suffer...complications from premature labor was what took her. He watched her try so hard to bring their son, their second child into the world...but in the end, the price she paid in return was too great...

There was no equivalency, there was nothing fair about any of this! She didn't deserve to lose her life, and their baby didn't either! He didn't even get the chance to live his life before he was robbed of it!

All he could do was continue his silent vigil, sitting by her side, holding her hand like he had been- she was still warm, her lifeless body had not yet turned cold- and stare at her face. Just stare at it, trying to memorize every detail.

Her eyes, her beautiful merlot eyes- which were closed, never to open again-, her mouth- which would never smile or laugh again-, her lips- pursed together, never again to greet him with a kiss, or to call his name out in the throws of passion- ...she looked stoically peaceful, as if her body knew she wasn't suffering anymore.

But his suffering, his pain, his agony, had only just begun.

He didn't think he could ever feel pain, not in the way other people did. _He_ was the Crimson Alchemist, _he_ didn't have a caring bone in his body, _he_ didn't have a soul to feel with. So why was _he_ the one sitting here, still drawing a breath, still allowed to walk the earth, when two people who had truly deserved the life they were given, were now nothing more then the fragments of people's memories, people's lives, people's souls?

_Why?_

Was this life's sick, twisted way of trying to punish him for taking the lives of so many others? By taking the lives of the woman he loved more then anything in the world, and of his son, whom he never had the chance to hold, to name, to physically care for?

_Why?_

The door to their darkened, lifeless bedroom opened, and he slowly turned, seeing a little girl, no older then three, looking at him with her big blueberry colored eyes, her onyx hair an unruly halo around her face, as she held her favorite stuffed animal.

"...Daddy?" She asked uncertainly, her little lips quivering a little.

What little life he had left within him drained away, and he held his arms out to her, pulling her into an embrace, looking over her head as his tears- real, angry, bitter, broken and lost tears- slowly disappeared in her hair.

"...There's something I have to tell you Deylia..."

_(AN: I feel like I could have done more with this, but it was late when I wrote this, and I was trying to write through my tears. (I might rewrite this later.) Yes, I'm that much of a sap that there have been a NUMBER of times I have cried while writing my own stories. What it was I don't know; maybe the fact that I'm doing something completely different with Kimblee, taking him out of his psychotic killer realm, and placing him in a situation where he's the one in pain. That's the funny thing- while I do my best to always write happy, fluffy things for Al/Juli, I'm always writing something difficult or sad for Alli/Kimblee. Might be because of his villain-like storyline, and I just like the idea that he either has to really work for his happy ending; prove that he deserves it, or he just doesn't get it period. Anyway, wall of text aside, hope you enjoyed it, read and review please! The first chapter will be here soon!)_


	2. Chapter 1

She never slept. Not really. How exactly were you supposed to be able to sleep when all you did day in and day out was worry about the one parent still in your life?

Well, physically anyway- spiritually, mentally and emotionally, he'd left a long time ago. It didn't use to be this bad; but twelve years of agony and grief can really work on a person. She could see it in his eyes (whenever he came out of his room, that was)- at one time she was sure they were proud and shone brightly. Now they were nothing more then shadowed, haunted reflections. Some days they almost were the darkened shade hers were.

It wasn't the Kimblee everyone else had known.

But it was the one she'd grown up knowing.

* * *

There were days she questioned why she still tried so hard to be close to him; to bring him out of the black hole of his room to be with her, even if it was only for a few minutes. It really did feel like a futile attempt a lot of the time; just a time waster.

But Deylia knew the answer. What else could she do? He may have given up on life, but deep down she was sure he hadn't given up on her, even if it felt like he had lately. And he was her dad. She loved him simply because he was. Someone had to be there for him.

Making him breakfast was an act that seemed so small and insignificant in the grand scheme of things- but it always made her heart swell just a little whenever she would come back to his room an hour or so later, and she would find the dishes sitting outside the door, emptied and practically cleaned out.

It was the little things that kept her going; that got her up and allowed her to live another day.

And it was also the surprises that she was granted on occasion. Like today.

At first it had started out as routine as she could get- she woke up at dawn, got herself ready for the day, before heading into the kitchen, throwing together some breakfast- toast, bacon, the usual; while avoiding the eggs- she had learned Kimblee didn't care for eggs with a note he'd left by the plate one morning, stressing that he loved that she thought of him, but he'd never been fond of them (she ended up keeping the note)- then placing it all on a tray.

But what happened afterwards was far from routine.

She had made her way down the hall, kneeling down and nearly placing the tray in front of the door- then suddenly, she heard it creak open. She looked up, startled, and she felt her breath catch when her blueberry-colored gaze met his darkened sapphire eyes.

Right then and there she'd taken note that he looked like hell- his hair was brushed but not confined in the ponytails she knew he favored from all the pictures she'd seen, his eyes worn and shadowed- and he wasn't exactly dressed like a gentleman; jeans and a muscle shirt was a far cry from the clothes he'd worn way back when. She gulped, unable to find her words- here she was, staring down her own father, and she couldn't say a single thing.

Kimblee was just as speechless. By the way he was caught off guard mentally when he saw her, it was like he hadn't seen her in years. And truth be told, it really had been a long time since he'd come out in broad daylight. She didn't know it, but after she went to bed at night, he would come in and tuck her in, just taking a few moments to gaze at her- the daughter that he really did love with all his heart, but was unable to face in the light of day for too many reasons to count. Now his hand had been forced today.

"...Good morning, Deylia…" He finally managed, feeling his throat tighten up, rubbing the back of his neck (and two of his scars) uncertainly. It was like a slap to the face to see how much she had grown…and while she definitely looked more like him- she didn't get the black hair and blue eyes out of nowhere- her face looked just like….her mother's…

She managed a soft smile after a second, slowly standing upright while holding the tray. "Good morning, Daddy." Her eyes quickly glanced at the tray then back to him, before she held it out farther to him. "H-Here's your breakfast…no eggs this time, I promise…" Her throat tightened up just as much, and out of the blue, she felt like crying. _When was the last time I'd actually really talked to my dad? Three years?_

He reached out and grasped it, his hands over hers- she bit her lip, he hadn't held her hand since she was a kid- but instead of taking it from her, they just stood there for a moment, the silence covering them like a thick blanket.

And then, he smiled. It was a very faint one, but it was still a smile. "...Thank you, Deylia. I know I probably upset you when I didn't eat all my food that morning-"

She couldn't help but smile back, trying to find her voice through the tears she was holding back. "No, no. You didn't. You ate everything else…you not liking something…i-it's okay…besides, now I know. And if I forget, I still have the note to remind me..." Her voice trailed off, before she looked down.

He choked up, his grasp trembling just a bit. _She kept my note? …What kind of father does this? What kind of father neglects his child so much that she has to hold on to something like that to know that he's still there for her? Allison would be so ashamed of me…and Deylia doesn't deserve this…._

Kimblee cleared his throat, before taking the tray entirely. "You know…I feel like eating outside today. Would you like to join me…?" The way her entire face seemed to light up- even if she tried to keep her even composure- put an ache in his chest far worse than the one he had been dealing with the last dozen years with Alli's loss.

"Y-Yeah. I'd like that a lot…." She said quietly, her hands shaking a little. If her heart swelled every time she saw his empty breakfast dishes, right now she felt like it was on the verge of exploding. _Eating breakfast with Dad…what a concept…_

He walked back into his room- just as in bad of shape as he was- with her right behind him, setting the tray on the table out on the balcony- a place that he also only ventured to at night. The night had become both his friend and the shade he needed- he could see the world, but the world wouldn't bother him; exactly how he wanted it. It went for everyone and everything.

But today was different. Today he was going to sit out there, in the light of the sun, with his daughter, and have his breakfast.

_It's time to start making a change. I need to start being there for her._

_**(AN: Another chapter that made me cry. I have a feeling this entire story will- whether it's just the subject of the story itself, or another person reason I can't say. Yes, it's really out of character for Kimblee, but meh. It's my story, and I like exploring this more human side of him. Anyway, please read and review!)**  
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